Hi, Hello, Goodafternoon, (pick your favourite greeting)
I'm looking for a friend. Or two. Or more.
I want to be a dad. Whole my life. My wife wants to be a mom, with every ounce of her beautifull and wonderfull self. She's going to be the kind of mom who is going to love being a kid more then the kid is going to love it. It sounds strange, but it's the shortest way of saying it.
For almost 2 years now, we are trying to get pregnant. After marriage and a house, it seemed like the perfect ending in the trilogy of our early adulthood lives.
When she quit her anticonception medication. Things started to get weird. Her period was late. As in, 3 months late. You'd think she was pregnant, but no. Multiple tests told us so. We discovered after 8 months and in total 1,5 menstrual cycles, she had PCOS. Simply put: disaster on a microscopic scale.
She was devasted. But being the optimist and neverrelenting woman she is, she went for the alternatives. Hell bent on getting that kid pushed out of her vagina some day. At that point, 8 months in our 2 year story, she thought that would be the most difficult part. Getting that little human being out of her body. I still like to remind her of that, she shuckles at the sound of it.
We went through the clomit medication a couple of months after that. The problems stayed the same. After two months of clommitindused moodswings we had enough of it. This wasn't helping her problem because her cycles still werent synced up as it should be. Two months seem a short time, but she hadn't had her period in those 60 days.
Then one of her follicles formed a cyst and exploded. That's exactly the word the doctor used: exploded. I cried. But I had to be strong, so not in front of her. I wasn't the one who felt that my body was betraying me, I wasn't to one that didn't feel a woman... Dark and sad days followed. I comforted her and listened. But to be honest, I didn't have a clue what to say. Every night my shoulder would be wet with her tears. Hugging and holding can only do so much.
Then we went to another babydoctor. THE babydoctor if his credentials are to be believed. After turning both of us inside out, we could start an IVF procedure. Costly, but with the ultimate price at the end of the ride. (and it helps to have a healthcare system that understands)
We both got our instructions. I needed to lose weight for the perfect sperm and she had to get that cycle under control. We eacht fullfilled our assignments perfectly. After 2 months (and for me 10kilograms) later, we could start our first pickup. For this, her PCOS was handy, lots of eggs and lots of good ones. After the pickup, the fertilising and freezing(we had to do the criothing) we had 4 embryo's good to go.
That was in september 2016. No we are 2 attempts later and we are going for the third attempt. This time, she wants to put back both remaining embryo's at once. The doktor agreed but there are dangers of having twins. Like twice the love, matching outfits and having to pick out two names. But seriously, twin pregnancies carry a high risk of losing the child. Or mother. Most of them go okay.
We are just hoping at least one of the 2 will take a hold and grows to a miniature human being.
The transfer of the embryo's will be next week. And I worry more about the possible failure then about the the possible twins.
What I want to say is. These fertility treatments are hard on a woman. The hormones, the uncertainty, the shots(I can help there and I can stab my wife with a needle. Less fun then it sounds) I just know she is the stronger one of the both of us. And I can't bear the thought of not being able to do more then being present.
As a man who has to stand, sit, lie next to all of this happening, I'm trying to feel. I don't know what to feel or think sometimes. She has to go through all of this and I can't do anything.
I'm litteraly a bystander. Even though half of the genetic material is mine, the effort, phyiscal strain and hardships are all on her. I know it means a lot to her that I'm there for her and sit through all of it together. But it kind of sucks too because I can't do anything. It's the helplessness that freaks me out. The urge to scream at the bloody world is a feeling I can't quite shake.
Is there at least one other dude out there that feels the same? Is there one man out there that feels as helpless as I do?
Thank you for reading,
I like you already.
*I'm not a native English speaker. Every mistake is to blamed on my education. Which was pretty good.